Heart of a Texan (12 page)

“I knew before I left, but I thought you were going to marry Boone Riggins. When you said you hadn’t refused his proposal solely because you were returning to Virginia, I had hope.”

“My going back to Virginia didn’t discourage you?”

“Yes, but it didn’t change my feelings. Not even moving to Arkansas could do that.” He moved a bit closer. “I’m not any good at being in love. It’s never happened before. I’m not very good with women, either. I’ve been too interested in other things, but that’s changed. Do you think we have a chance?”

She smiled and his heart turned over. “I do enjoy spending time with you, but I hope you’ll stop falling in love with me. We’re too different. We even want to live in different places. You want to bring diViere to justice, but I don’t know how I could love a man who would hunt down another. I know that sounds hypocritical coming from the woman who shot you, but that brought home the horror of what it means to kill someone. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d killed you.”

That was a lot to swallow at once, but it didn’t discourage Nate. She didn’t love Riggins, and she did like him enough to have thought of all the reasons why they shouldn’t fall in love. She was still sitting next to him, her hands in his, her gaze locked with his. She had accepted his help willingly, Riggins’s help reluctantly. This wasn’t all he wanted, but it was enough for a beginning. He didn’t know what he would do about Laveau—he couldn’t live with the knowledge that, after all the evil that man had spawned, he would be left free to keep doing it—but somehow he would find an answer. As for living in Virginia, being a farmer couldn’t be all that bad.

***

“Was that Nate Dolan I saw leaving here?”

Blossom McCrevy had arrived before Roberta had time to get over Nate’s declaration that he was falling in love with her. She desperately wanted time to think, but Blossom was Roberta’s best friend and had an insatiable curiosity. Fortunately, she was discreet.

“You know it was, so don’t try to be clever. Sit down, and take off your bonnet. I’m surprised you aren’t getting ready for work.”

Blossom settled in the rocking chair Nate had so recently vacated. “I’ve been meaning to come see how you’re getting on, but you’re always in the field.”

“So why are you here now?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but Boone thinks you’re angry at him. I’m supposed to find out why.”

“I’m not angry at him.”

Blossom’s look was skeptical. “That’s not the way it looks to me.”

“He keeps trying to do everything for me.”

“What is a husband supposed to do but take care of you?”

“He’s not my husband, and I don’t want
anybody
to take care of me. I can do it myself.”

“By working in the fields like a hired hand?”

“If necessary.”

Blossom studied Roberta for a minute. “I heard a couple of Nate Dolan’s men have been working on your barn. You seem awfully friendly with him. The other ranchers think you hate them.”

“Nate was the only one who talked to my father about the dam without threatening him. The night I shot Nate, he had seen the fire and was coming to help.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“No. He was delirious that first night. He talked in his sleep.”

“You sat up with him all night?”

“The doctor said he couldn’t be moved, and I had Russ McCoy here swearing I was going to poison him. I was determined to do everything I could to make sure he got well enough to go home. If anything happened to him after that, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Yet you went to his ranch to see him. Twice.”

“Have you been spying on me?”

Blossom laughed. “I didn’t need to spy. You’re Slender Creek’s most intriguing citizen at the moment. Nate Dolan is close behind.”

Roberta was horrified to know her movements were so well known. “I went the first time to make sure he was getting food that wouldn’t set his recovery back a week. I went the second time to explain why Joe threw his men off the farm.”

“Prudence is still not happy about that. If she weren’t so busy taking care of old lady Gilbert, I expect she’d camp on your front door until the barn was finished.”

“I would never wish anyone ill, but I can only hope Mrs. Gilbert’s recovery isn’t rapid.”

Both women laughed, but the tension didn’t ease.

“You know, the generally held belief is that Boone Riggins is the best husband you could hope to find, and that you’re a fool for not snapping him up before he gets tired of waiting and looks around for someone else.”

“If there’s ever a time when a woman
should
make up her mind by herself, it’s when it comes to choosing her husband.”

“There are no other single men around here but cowhands and drifters. There’s no
choosing
to be done. Boone is the
only
choice.”

“I’d stay single before I married a man I didn’t love.”

“No woman in her right mind stays single, not when she can marry a man like Boone Riggins. Do you know how rich he is?”

“I’d never marry a man just because he was rich.”

“Boone isn’t just rich. He’s handsome, virile, and as nice as any man can be and still be a man. What’s more, he’s in love with you.”

“He’s never said he loves me.”

Blossom sat up in her chair. “Of course he has.”

“That’s something a woman remembers. He hasn’t said I’m beautiful, either. I know I’m
not
beautiful, but wouldn’t I be beautiful to a man who was in love with me?”

Blossom’s gaze narrowed. “Who’ve you been talking to? I know it’s not Prudence. She doesn’t believe in love, and a man would have to be blind to think she’s beautiful.”

“Why do you think I’ve talked to anyone?”

“I don’t know how they do things in Virginia, but in Texas, if a man wants to marry you and he’s got enough money to put a roof over your head and is thoughtful enough not to beat you in public, you marry him and hope he doesn’t die on you after he’s given you six kids. Then you’d
have
to marry any man who’d have you.”

“All the more reason to stay single.”

Blossom nearly shouted, “Not when you could marry Boone.”

Roberta had a sudden revelation. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Blossom looked away. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would a man like Boone Riggins see in a woman like me?”

“He’d see a fine, lovely woman who’d make him a better wife than I ever could be.”

Blossom’s eyes swam with tears. “I’m not a
fine
,
lovely
woman. I have a past. No man like Boone would have anything to do with me. And if he did, half the women in town would close their doors to him.”

“That would be a decision for Boone to make.”

“Well, he doesn’t love me. He loves you, so the only decision to make is for you to agree to marry him. If you go to Virginia, Boone swears he’ll follow you or kidnap you.”

“He’s just being melodramatic. Boone’s used to getting what he wants.”

“What do you want? And don’t tell me you want to go back to Virginia and be single for the rest of your life.”

“I want to find out who killed my father. And I want to put this farm back on its feet to show the ranchers that killing my father didn’t change anything.”

“And after you’ve done that, what then?”

“I don’t know.”

Blossom got her to her feet. “While you’re making up your mind, remember you’ve promised to go to the dance with Boone. He’ll pick you up early.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Blossom studied Roberta for a moment. “You don’t
want
to go to the dance with Boone, do you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you said
I’ll be ready
like you were being told you had to be up before dawn to dig forty rows of potatoes.”

“I’m just tired.”

“No, you’re interested in someone else.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Blossom crossed to Roberta, pulled her down on the sofa, and sat next to her. “I’m your best friend. You can’t lie to me even if you can to yourself. You’re falling in love with Nate Dolan, and there’s no use denying it.”

Rather than make the denial that sprang to her lips, Roberta burst into tears.

***

“You don’t have to worry that I’ll betray myself.” Roberta had spent the better part of an hour trying to convince Blossom. “Nate said he never goes to dances.”

Blossom had insisted on helping Roberta dress for the dance. Roberta wasn’t sure if Blossom was there to give her moral support or to keep her from standing up Boone at the last minute. Considering what she’d confessed a few days ago, she couldn’t blame her.

She
was
falling in love with Nate, and she couldn’t come up with a single good reason why it should be happening. He was likeable, attractive, young, and rich, all wonderful attributes in their own right, but they weren’t reasons to fall in love. Perfect reasons
to
marry,
according to Blossom, but Blossom hadn’t been talking about love, either.

Roberta hadn’t wanted to come to Texas. She’d only come because it was her father’s dream. She didn’t want to fall in love with a Texas rancher. They acted like they could take the law into their own hands whenever they wanted. Worse, she didn’t want to fall in love with a man determined to chase Laveau diViere until one of them killed the other.

Blossom was working on Roberta’s hair. She had wanted to leave it down—she couldn’t forget what Nate had said about it—but Blossom insisted it had to be pinned up to be truly elegant. Roberta didn’t care what her hair looked like. Nate wouldn’t be there.

“Boone is really looking forward to this evening,” Blossom said.

“You’ve told me that a dozen times. I’ll do everything I can to help him enjoy himself, but I won’t promise to marry him.”

“You know he’s going to ask you.”

Roberta sighed. “Yes, I know.”

“And you’re going to refuse him because you’re falling in love with Nate Dolan.”

“Try to remember I refused him
before
I shot Nate.”

“Everybody thought you were just being coy.”

“Why would people believe that? I’ve never been coy.”

“People don’t know much about you.”

“That’s because they were too afraid of going against the ranchers to show any interest or sympathy for me and my father. Now stop messing with my hair. Unless I’m mistaken, that’s the sound of Boone’s buggy coming up the lane.”

Boone wasn’t happy about having Blossom ride with them to the dance, but it was a short ride.

It was a lovely night. The moon was full, the stars had been flung across the sky with a prodigal hand, and an invigorating breeze swept down from the hills to the west making it a perfect night for a dance.

A dance floor had been set up in the middle of the street that ran through the center of town. Lanterns hung from ropes tied to posts on opposite sides of the street, streamers from clotheslines strung between roofs. Light poured from half the buildings in town, but the brightest light came from Boone’s saloon. The dancers would need refreshment, and like the good businessman he was, Boone was ready to provide it.

Everyone would be at the dance. Families coming from a distance would camp outside of town. Cowhands from as far away as twenty-five miles would sleep up to three in a bed in the hotel—if they bothered to sleep at all. Boone let Roberta and Blossom down on the boardwalk in front of his restaurant before taking his buggy to the livery stable.

The dancing hadn’t begun, but the streets were filled. Even though many of the people saw each other every day, a dance was a festive occasion not to be missed.

“Come on,” Blossom said. “Let’s get some lemonade before it’s all gone.”

Roberta wasn’t interested in lemonade, but she had made up her mind to be as agreeable as possible. She allowed Blossom to lead her to a table operated by two little girls who didn’t appear to be more than ten.

Boone returned just as they were handed their lemonade. “Patronizing the competition?”

“If you started selling lemonade, we wouldn’t have to,” Roberta told him.

“If I started selling lemonade, I’d be out of business in a week,” Boone told her.

“And me out of a job,” Blossom added. “Can you imagine our customers giving up whiskey and beer for lemonade? You’d be more likely to find them in church on Sunday morning.”

“If that happened, I’d have to take up preaching to make a living,” Boone said. “I’m going to ask the fellas to strike up a tune. I hope you have your dancing shoes on. I feel like I could dance all night.”

After the first three dances, Roberta was convinced Boone meant what he said. “If I’m going to last the rest of the evening, I’ve got to rest,” she told him. “My body hasn’t gotten used to working in the fields all day.”

“If you’d marry me, you wouldn’t have to work in the fields at all.”

“I’m doing this for my father.”

“He’s dead. You’re not.”

Roberta thought that was a particularly insensitive remark, but she only said, “You should get something to drink. You’ve got to be thirsty by now.”

“I am a little.”

“You don’t have to hurry back. I’ll sit with Blossom.”

Blossom was seated on a bench in front of the mercantile talking to a young man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, a checkered shirt, and a pair of boots guaranteed to do more damage to his feet than that of his partners.

“Thanks for the dance,” he was saying when Roberta walked up. “I’ll be back for another.”

Blossom gave him a broad smile. “You know where to find me.”

“Capturing another cowboy heart?” Roberta teased.

“Lord, no.” Blossom fanned herself. “Just trying to keep a customer happy.”

“You’re not working now.”

“I’m
always
working when it comes to customers.” Blossom made a face. “At least your tomatoes don’t want to dance with you.”

“Or wear boots that will bloody his toes before midnight.”

Both women laughed, but Blossom’s ended in a gasp.

“Look who just showed up.”

Roberta’s breath caught in her throat. Nate Dolan was coming down the boardwalk in their direction.

“Did you know he was coming?” Blossom asked.

“No. I asked him if he would—I was telling him he ought to go to dances and to church, if he wanted to become a part of the community—but he said he never went to dances.”

“Either he changed his mind, or he’s come for a drink. I’ve never seen him in the saloon, so I guess he’s come because of you.”

Blossom looked positively eaten up with curiosity. And excitement. Her eyes were like those of a little girl about to open her birthday presents.

“He’s coming this way,” Blossom whispered.

“Probably because the boardwalk comes this way,” Roberta pointed out.

“He could have walked down the boardwalk on the other side of the street. He could even have walked down the street itself.”

“Nobody in his right mind would walk down the middle of that street, and you know it.”

Blossom’s confidence wasn’t shaken. “He’s coming to see you. I know it.”

At that moment, Nate looked in her direction and smiled.

Blossom jumped to her feet. “I’ll stall Boone, but I won’t be able to keep him away for long.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Roberta protested. “Nate won’t—”

“Don’t waste time pretending. It’s just not fair that you have Boone and Nate Dolan chasing after you when I can’t hold the interest of anyone fancier than a broom-tailed cowhand.”

It wouldn’t have done any good for Roberta to protest that Nate wasn’t
chasing
after her because Blossom was already gone.

A rancher coming out of Boone’s saloon nearly bumped into Nate. Apparently surprised to see him, Frank Porter buttonholed him. Knowing Frank’s habit of talking for fifteen minutes when three would have been enough, Roberta started to turn away. Much to her surprise, Nate cut Frank off and continued toward her. He was stopped twice more, but each time he paused only briefly. In what seemed like much too short a time, he was standing before her. She could think of only one thing to say.

“You said you never went to dances. What changed your mind?”

“You.”

Roberta was relieved Blossom wasn’t here. If Nate was going to be that direct with his first word to her, there couldn’t be any doubt about his feelings. Nor, if the way her heart was beating was any indication, about her feelings for him.

“I’m here with Boone.”

“I know.”

“I can’t dance with you.”

“That’s okay. I can’t dance with anybody.”

She didn’t want it to be okay. Perversely, she wanted him to have come for the sole purpose of dancing with her, of spending as much time as possible with her. She wanted him to be angry he couldn’t. “Then why did you come?”

“To see you. May I sit down?”

“It’s a public bench. You don’t have to ask me.”

“But I did.”

“Of course you may sit. You probably shouldn’t be standing. You certainly shouldn’t have ridden into town. Does the doctor know what you’re doing?”

Nate settled on the bench a safe distance from Roberta. His slow smile appeared. “I’m pleased to know you’re still concerned about me.”

Roberta didn’t know why she was acting like a snappish spinster, but worrying that Boone would appear any minute wasn’t making her feel less on edge. “I suppose I will be until you’re completely well.”

“Could you manage a bit longer?”

“How long?” What a stupid question. She knew the answer without asking. That’s what made the situation so impossible. “Don’t answer that.”

“Why? Does sixty years seem too long?”

“An eternity.”

“An eternity is much longer. Sixty years is only a beginning.”

“This conversation is absurd. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“No. Just unsure of what you want. I should say I’m sorry to put pressure on you, but I can’t. I know what I want.”

“Very few people get what they want. When they do, they often find it’s not good for them.”

“Then I will have to be careful to want the right thing.”

Roberta didn’t know what to say next. Her head was in a whirl, and it shouldn’t have been. She knew Nate was falling in love with her because he’d told her. She hadn’t been sure he knew what he was talking about, but apparently he had, or he wouldn’t be here tonight saying the things he was saying.

“I’m glad you took my advice to take a more active part in the community.”

“I have little interest in the community. I’m here because you’re here.”

“Why would you want to be at a dance with me when you can’t dance?”

“I’d be happy to be anywhere with you. It doesn’t matter that I can’t dance. We could talk. I always looked forward to our talks when I was at your house.”

She hadn’t known that. If she had, would she have spent less time with him? She didn’t think she’d spent that much. After working in the fields all day, she didn’t have the energy to stay up late talking. “I’m still determined to move back to Virginia.”

“I spent most of the war in Virginia. I wouldn’t mind living there.”

Roberta was shocked Nate would consider leaving Texas, but she reminded herself that he’d only moved here after the war. “But not until after you’ve killed diViere.”

“Bringing Laveau to justice doesn’t mean I have to kill him.”

“It doesn’t mean he won’t kill you first. We’ve had this discussion before, and it ended the same way. This is a dance. We’re supposed to put aside our worries and have fun.”

“I’ll enjoy watching you have fun.”

How was she supposed to have fun knowing he was watching everything she did? Would he be wondering what Boone was saying to her, what she was saying to Boone? Would he wonder if Boone would kiss her when he took her home? Would he wonder if she wanted Boone to kiss her? It wouldn’t matter what he was thinking. It’s what
she
would be thinking that would make this evening more of a trial than it was already.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried when Boone and Blossom emerged from the saloon and headed her way.

Nate’s gaze narrowed when he saw Boone wasn’t alone. “I thought you were with Boone.”

“That’s Blossom. She works for Boone.”

“She appears to like him as more than just a boss.”

Roberta wondered how a man like Nate could see at a glance that Blossom was in love with Boone. “Boone is a good boss.”

“Would you say I’m a good boss?”

“The boys seem to think so. Russ fusses over you like a mother hen, so I guess he thinks so as well.”

“I have a half-dozen cowhands I’ve never seen. I wonder if they’d agree.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond because Boone and Blossom had reached them. Nate stood to greet Blossom. Roberta had to give him credit for good manners.

“I’m glad to see you’re strong enough to be out of bed,” Boone said to Nate. “Now Roberta can stop feeling guilty for shooting you.”

He wrung Nate’s hand in a way that must have put a strain on his wound. Boone was a fine man, but sensitivity wasn’t one of his strong points.

“Roberta has been telling me I need to make more of an effort to be part of the community. She suggested I start with the dance and follow up with church.”

“The dance is a good idea. You can get a drink in my saloon if you get bored, but I’d stay away from church. The preacher will tell you you’re going to hell, and every unmarried woman will be trying to figure how she can be the one to go with you.”

Nate turned to Roberta with the slow smile she was beginning to like far too much. “I think that’s what Roberta had in mind.”

“Marriage is a good thing,” Boone said, looking at Roberta with a glance that had too much pride of ownership in it. “I’ve been trying to convince Roberta to marry me, but she’s holding out.” He winked. “I’m hoping she’ll give me a different answer after tonight.”

If Roberta could have kicked Boone in his shins without anyone noticing, she’d have beaten a tattoo on them. There were some things you just didn’t say in front of anyone who would listen.

“I’ll make you a trade,” Boone said to Nate. “Roberta for Blossom. The next dance is about to start.”

“I’d be pleased to get to know you,” Nate said to Blossom, “but I don’t dance.”

Blossom’s smile was broad and genuine. “That’s okay. I’ve already danced enough for two lifetimes.”

Roberta was shocked by the upsurge of jealousy that claimed her the moment Blossom sat next to Nate. It was as ridiculous as it was unexpected, but it was also undeniable. She could protest all she wanted that any relationship between her and Nate was impossible, but a part of her refused to listen to reason, ignored facts, and wouldn’t be bullied into submission.

“It’s good to see Dolan up and about. Now you can stop worrying about him.”

But that’s exactly what she
couldn’t
do. It was more than she could do not to look to where Nate and Blossom were sitting. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t irritated Blossom was sitting with Nate, and she wasn’t, that Blossom was smiling, laughing, and appeared thoroughly charmed while she was unhappy and feeling ill-used. She was even more annoyed that Nate didn’t appear to miss her. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t once glanced in her direction.

Boone had his arms around her—they were dancing—but she couldn’t remember how she got there. Was her infatuation with Nate so powerful she could be oblivious to her surroundings, to her actions? Boone held her closer, bent down until his cheek brushed against hers. Her instinctive reaction was to pull back, but it was a slow dance, and most couples were dancing cheek to cheek. “Marry me, Roberta. I’ve been asking you for months, and I’m going to keep asking until you say yes.”

Roberta struggled to find the words that would convince him to stop proposing at every opportunity. What could she say tonight that she hadn’t said already?

Boone whispered in her ear, “You can invite the whole town to the wedding. In fact, I
want
you to. I want everybody to see I’m marrying the most beautiful woman in Slender Creek.”

Roberta came to a halt right there on the dance floor even though couples continued to swirl around her. She stepped back and looked Boone full in the face. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“That I want you to invite the whole town to the wedding?”

“No. That you think I’m beautiful.”

“Of course I think you’re beautiful. I’ve told you a hundred times.”

“You’ve never said it.”

Boone put his arms around her and resumed dancing. “If I haven’t said it, I thought it. I wouldn’t propose if you weren’t the very best.”

She was sure Boone intended his remark to be a compliment, but that wasn’t the effect it had on her. What if a more attractive woman moved to Slender Creek? Would he lose interest when she grew older and lost her looks? What qualities other than looks made her
the
very
best
? He didn’t value her loyalty to her father or her allegiance to her principles. He certainly didn’t value her independence, resourcefulness, or willingness to work in the fields herself. How could she believe he thought she was beautiful when it had taken him so long to say it?

Rather than feel flattered or pleased, she felt depressed.

“We can have any kind of wedding you want, but we ought to go to San Antonio for your dress. There’s nothing in town good enough for my future wife.”

Not for
her
. For his
future
wife
. Did Boone think of her as an individual, or would she be just another prize for him? She wouldn’t have thought to ask that question, if it hadn’t been for Nate. His interest in her had changed everything. She couldn’t marry Nate either, of course—he was too focused on vengeance—but at least Nate valued her for herself.

“We can go to San Antonio any day you want.” Boone seemed intent on pressing his case despite her repeated refusals. “As long as you have Crazy Joe and Nate’s cowhands working for you, you don’t have to feel guilty about leaving.”

She refused to ask him
again
to stop calling Joe crazy. “I’m flattered by your offer, and I appreciate your help with the farm, but I don’t think we’d suit as husband and wife.”

Boone’s eyes hardened for a moment before his well-practiced smile came back into place. “Well, I will just have to do whatever it takes to convince you otherwise.”

Roberta was doing all she could to remain polite, but she couldn’t endure one more strained dance with Boone and his incessant planning for a wedding she would never agree to. “I’m sorry to cut our evening short, but I’m afraid I have a headache that’s getting worse. Could you please take me home?”

As Boone led her back to the carriage, she could feel Nate’s heated gaze following their every move.

***

Roberta had been stretching a point when she told Boone she had a headache, but by the time he brought her home, it was very real. As soon as she closed the door behind him, she could feel the muscles in her body start to release their tension. It was like being unbound, one rope at a time, until there was nothing left to hold her together beyond willpower. Unwilling to face the ordeal of undressing just yet, she sank down in the chair her father had occupied most evenings. Her world was falling apart. What was she going to do?

The problem wasn’t the farm. She wasn’t deluding herself. It was all about Nate.

Until she shot him, he hardly knew she existed. Not a conventional way of starting a courtship. She would have thought it was the perfect way to end one. Yet she’d gone from being a woman he barely remembered to one he couldn’t forget. Boone wanted to marry her because he wanted
only
the
best
, whatever that meant. Could Nate want to marry her simply because she’d nursed him back to health? Were all men so illogical?

Frustrated and restless, she picked up her lamp and went to the kitchen, but she couldn’t decide whether to fix coffee, have something to eat, or both. She’d left the dance before eating anything. Rather than dither, she stepped onto the back porch. The air was soft and cool. The breeze was just strong enough to make itself felt against her cheek. She leaned against the porch rail, looking at the night sky beyond the fig tree and grape arbor that skirted the backyard. It was so quiet it was almost eerie. Puffy clouds floated by with barely perceptible movement. A thin veil of high clouds nearly obscured the pulsing stars. On such a serene night, how could everything be so out of kilter?